


A Little Practice

by Anonymous



Category: Doom (Video Games)
Genre: Bit of dirty talk jg, M/M, PWP without Porn, Passing Out, Samur is punished. what did he do, Sex Toys, fuckugod, i guess it’s under clothing but not really, let’s be real what did he do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28280343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Samur can’t stop shaking.
Relationships: The Father/Samur Makyr
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Anonymous





	A Little Practice

He couldn’t stop shaking, the foreign objects inside him wouldn’t allow it. He never should have agreed to this. Tied up like a pig, arching his back as if there was something poking it. Samur kept crying and drooling, pleading for the Father to stop, but it didn’t phase him. His creator was so sympathetic, the Seraphim never understood why the Father isn’t sympathetic right now. 

The Father did nothing but verbally jerk him off as he held him by the arms from behind. Caressing Samur’s lower revealed half, and stroking the lines from his inner robe. Samur still kept pleading with him, but the father still didn’t listen. Only hearing a certain sentence, to which he said, “Only practice,” while holding strange objects intended for sexual pleasure in front of the loyal makyr.

It didn’t seem like practice, however. Samur laid on the legless lap of the father, while the father simply held him. He wanted it to stop already.

Samur tried to quiet himself, but as the vibrating object inside him went harder and faster, he loudly moaned. Attempting to cover his mouth although the tight rope nearly shredded a small part of his robe. He felt hotter and hotter and hotter and he orgasmed over and over again. Cumming on the bright red cloth, and on the large hand of his creator.

The creator spoke firmly, “Keep going,” and Samur groaned in response. Feeling the sharp fingers stroke on one of the tentacles slowly, twisting the seraphs face to meet his, and kissing him deeply. Instantly winning the game of tongue, and hearing Samur’s muffled moans through his hardened mouth. 

“You’re nothing but a whore,” he said, breaking the kiss, “The entirety of Urdak should have seen you like this,” Samur internally squirmed, crying even more once the object went even faster, “N-no… please… no!” He cried. But it sounded more a want and not a plea. 

“Don’t resist. You deserve this,” The Father ordered. 

“No…” groaned the Seraphim. All he can see was black as he orgasmed one last time.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck you


End file.
